[Reward Dispensed: Complete Dumbbell Sets have been placed inside the Sect Hall] Reading the translucent system prompt floating in his vision, Zani nodded in quiet satisfaction.
These pure iron weights, just thinking about them made him smirk inwardly.
From the moment dawn broke until the sun reached its absolute peak, Zani had exhausted his breath spreading word through the dusty streets of Big Wheat Village.
He made sure everyone knew his domain was officially opening for business.
As a result, a massive sea of commoners had gathered outside the perimeter, pointing, whispering, and crane-necking to see what the orphan was up to.
Now that the heavy wooden signboard was firmly secured above the entry gates, Zani turned to face the dense crowd, standing with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.
Originally, he had only planned to use this gathering to announce his future business intentions.
However, the System’s sudden reward was far too practical and aligned flawlessly with his immediate needs.
Over the past ten days, Zani had done more than just grueling manual labor.
He had spent his evenings drinking cheap liquor with Chief Sythe to extract precious knowledge about the martial path.
He had even traveled all the way to Grains City to investigate how professional dojos operated, carefully cataloging their exorbitant tuition fees and publicly known training methods.
He now possessed a solid foundation to launch his enterprise.
Furthermore, his back was flat against the wall.
After paying for the initial ox cart and hired laborers, handing the village carpenters twenty coppers for his custom-carved signboard, and feeding his massive appetite with five coppers’ worth of daily meat meals for ten days, his savings had bled significantly.
He was down to exactly one silver coin.
“Fellow villagers,” Zani called out, a warm, accommodating smile gracing his face as he cupped his fists in a polite greeting to the masses.
“I hope the heavens find you well today!
Today marks the official establishment of the Iron Core Gym.
I humbly ask my fellow brothers and elders to support this junior’s new business.” The crowd immediately erupted into a chaotic storm of murmurs.
Some boldly tried to peek through the splintered crack in the gates, while others stared at the youth in sheer disbelief.
“Young friend Zani.” The whispering intensified as the crowd respectfully parted.
A robust, broad-shouldered man with a thick, charcoal beard strode directly into the clearing.
“Chief Sythe!” Zani immediately stepped forward, maintaining his polite mask.
“Hmm.” Sythe stroked his beard, his eyes twinkling with a distinct mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Do tell, Zani.
What type of business have you opened here?
With a name like that…
could it be a martial dojo?” Sythe asked playfully.
Zani had asked countless deep questions about martial arts during their last drinking session.
But a mortal daring to open a dojo?
In this world, that was a dangerous joke.
It would surely result in Grains City’s established experts marching down to smash the courtyard just to preserve their own authority and face.
“I dare not, Chief,” Zani replied smoothly, keeping his posture humble.
“Then what exactly is this establishment?” “Chief, as a respected martial artist, you know the harsh truths of cultivation better than anyone here,” Zani spoke clearly, his voice carrying an artificial weight that echoed to the very back of the crowd.
“When a youth joins a premier city dojo, they must first build their physical foundation.
A mortal can only begin the profound Skin Tempering stage when their flesh and bones are strong enough to lift a three hundred catties (150 kg) load.” “True.” Sythe nodded slowly, validating the youth’s claim with the gravity of a village leader.
A collective gasp rippled through the gathered peasants, marveling at the sheer weight of three hundred catties.
“Chief, you also know that many families pay exorbitant annual fees to these distant city dojos, only for their children to fail to reach that necessary foundation,” Zani pressed, his eyes narrowing sharply to capture the crowd’s emotion.
“They are forced to leave before even beginning true Skin Tempering, wasting their parents’ hard-earned wealth and blood-sweat.” “That…
does happen frequently,” Sythe’s expression turned solemn.
As an old fox, he immediately understood where this shrewd youth was leading the conversation.
“Hehe.
Chief, this place I have opened ‘the Iron Core Gym’ exists solely to forge that foundational vessel,” Zani announced loudly.
“Inside, I have gathered specialized weights of all sizes.
The heaviest among them is five hundred kilograms!” Chief Sythe went completely pale.
The surrounding villagers froze.
Five hundred kilograms!
Did this kid even comprehend what that number represented?
Even Sythe, standing at the absolute peak of the Skin Tempering stage within Big Wheat Village, could only lift three hundred kilograms.
Looking at Zani and remembering the free drinks the boy had provided, the Chief assumed the youth was just exaggerating to attract customers.
He decided to humor him in front of the ignorant villagers and help him correct the statement later.
“I speak absolute truth,” Zani continued, entirely misinterpreting the Chief’s pale shock as simple awe.
“Today, the doors of my Iron Core Gym are open to anyone who wishes to test these weights.
Free of charge.” With a sweeping, welcoming gesture, Zani turned and led the Chief and a few of the braver villagers through the heavy gates and into the grand hall.
Sythe could only sigh at the boy’s apparent foolishness.
Chaos instantly erupted at the entrance.
“Do you think he speaks the truth?” “I doubt it!
Where would a broke orphan get five hundred kilograms of perfect weights?” “Regardless, this is a godsend!
My father forbids me from joining a city dojo because of the silver tuition, but he cannot stop me from lifting weights here!” “Heavens, do you think the Chief was talking about the boy from Sweet Corn village?
His family went bankrupt sending him to the Swift Leg Dojo…” Within half a sichen, the explosive news had swept through the entirety of Big Wheat Village.
Since it was a small settlement containing merely five hundred households, the gossip traveled like a raging wildfire.
Inside the Grand Hall Sythe stood frozen before the neatly arranged equipment, staring at the long rows of massive iron racks.
Resting upon them were pairs of marvelous, perfectly balanced iron dumbbells of ascending sizes.
Sythe stepped up to the heavy racks.
Wanting to test the quality, he gripped a massive two-hundred-kilogram dumbbell and curled it effortlessly with one arm while speaking to Zani.
“Junior Zani…
tell me the truth.
How did you acquire these?” The Chief, who was initially worried about the boy embarrassing himself, quickly became fascinated by the marvelous items on display.
But as the initial excitement cooled and logic set in, a deep horror gripped his heart.
The iron.
Every single piece was forged from pure, refined iron.
Using so much refined iron just to forge weights!
How much would the raw materials cost?
What about the exorbitant blacksmithing fees to cast these perfect, identical shapes?
Sythe realized with a heavy heart that even if he sold half of his family’s property, he might not be able to afford a single set of these weights.
An audible gulp escaped the Chief’s throat.
He looked at Zani, his aura fluctuating wildly.
“Did you take a high-interest loan from a shadowy syndicate in the city?
Did someone blackmail you into using this land?” Sythe bombarded the boy with questions, his voice tight.
Zani remained perfectly calm, maintaining his aloof, mysterious mask.
Inwardly, however, he was highly amused by the dramatic reactions of these natives over standard gym gear.
The truth was, Zani knew absolutely nothing about proper exercise mechanics.
He had never stepped foot inside a real gym in his past life.
All his knowledge came from scrolling through brief social media reels and listening to the idle chatter of his former modern students.
Yet, looking at the newly manifested iron, he confidently believed he was an expert.
How hard could it be?
Zani thought, rolling his eyes inwardly.
You just pick the dumbbell up and you put it down.
Then you grab a heavier one if it’s too light.
Simple.
Seeing the youth’s detached, knowing silence, Sythe felt a sudden pang of embarrassment for aggressively probing into a junior’s profound secrets.
He coughed dryly to save face and quieted down.
“They were gifts from an elder,” Zani said softly, waking from his inner thoughts and offering an unfathomable, mysterious smile.
“I cannot say more than this, Chief.” “I understand,” Sythe replied, misinterpreting the smile as the backing of a hidden supreme master.
THUD!
Sythe set the massive iron dumbbell back onto the rack, the heavy impact vibrating violently through the reinforced stone floor.
“Tell me, Junior.
What is the tuition fee?” At the Chief’s words, all activity in the hall abruptly ceased.
Currently, over twenty villagers had trickled inside, mostly hot-blooded youths awkwardly struggling to lift even the lighter sixty-kilogram dumbbells.
Hearing the question, every single ear pricked up.
Zani stepped forward, his expression turning serious and majestic.
“Chief, I offer three distinct paths,” he announced loudly.
The first path: A monthly payment of twenty copper coins.
The second path: An annual payment of two silver coins.
The third path: Pay only after you have gained the required strength.
Hearing this, the villagers exchanged complicated, wary looks.
Meanwhile, the Chief stroked his beard and nodded decisively.
Without a single word of negotiation, he reached into his robes and pulled out a handful of gleaming coins.
“Zani, here are forty copper coins.
My two sons, will officially join your Gym starting tomorrow.” Zani accepted the coppers with a bright smile, cupping his fists respectfully.
Then he personally escorted the Chief to the gates, giving the village expert maximum respect as he bid him farewell.
After the Chief departed, more villagers trickled in to test their strength against the iron.
Many eagerly inquired about the price, only to shake their heads and leave in resignation.
The conditions were incredibly fair.
Twenty coppers a month was affordable for a standard village family earning a modest income.
But would they really spend their hard-earned wealth here?
Most peasants still firmly believed it was better to save those coppers and eventually send their children to a premier dojo in the city.
City dojos provided highly nutritious medicinal meals, and even if a child failed to reach the Skin Tempering stage, they would at least learn flashy mortal fighting techniques to defend themselves.
As for the third option, paying only after gaining strength, no one even dared to ask.
Anyone with half a brain in this ruthless martial world knew that ‘delayed payment’ always resulted in the most exorbitant, unavoidable blood-price in the end.
Thus, Zani spent the entire day meticulously managing the crowds, not even finding a single moment to eat.
By sunset, the grand hall emptied out.
Only five disciples had officially joined his Gym, bringing him exactly one hundred copper coins in revenue.
Unsurprisingly, all of them had chosen the monthly payment plan.
Ironically, only one of them was the son of a common hunter.
The other four were descendants of local martial artists.
Although Big Wheat Village was small, it housed more than one retired Skin Tempering expert, even if Chief Sythe was acknowledged as the strongest among them.
Those who truly understood the arduous martial path immediately recognized the immense, undeniable value of Zani’s perfectly balanced pure iron weights.